


Just Say You're Hurt

by Silverofyou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Oikawa Tooru's Knee Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24744202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverofyou/pseuds/Silverofyou
Summary: I wrote this for Abi, because she loves iwaoi and I love her. And I also love iwaoi.Huge thanks to Kate and Q (queuebird!) for helping me realize I suck at writing body positions and then helping me fix it lmao.Enjoy!
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 15
Kudos: 205





	Just Say You're Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Abi, because she loves iwaoi and I love her. And I also love iwaoi.
> 
> Huge thanks to Kate and Q (queuebird!) for helping me realize I suck at writing body positions and then helping me fix it lmao. 
> 
> Enjoy!

To this day, Tooru doesn't think he's heard a louder noise in his life. Objectively he knows that's not true, but in his memory, it was like the noise, the loud _crack,_ could be heard all across the gym. 

And then, the pain. 

"Shit, Oikawa," he heard, a faint exclamation in the deafening silence that followed his fall. Like everyone in the gym had been frozen mid-gasp. Tooru, lying on the floor, hand braced against the wooden tiles, blinked back the tears from his eyes. His leg, his _knee_ felt like it was on fire, and he couldn't see or hear or think beyond the absolute _agony._

He felt a hand on his back, guiding him back onto a sitting position, but even the slightest movement made him want to scream. It came out as a whimper, at most, and suddenly the hand was gone. Before he could feel any relief, he found himself being carefully turned around and lifted from the ground, that same hand reappearing under his knees. He buried his head in the owner's chest immediately, not daring to open his eyes and feel everyone's stares on him. 

Now that the pain had taken over his entire leg and became a dull, latent ache, he was able to think more clearly and, _oh, this is so embarrassing._ He had been about to serve, about to take the jump, but his knee, completely worn out from Tooru ignoring the sharp warnings it'd been sending for the past set and a half, had finally given out under him. He had just collapsed on the floor in front of hundreds of people.

And ah, fuck, Iwa-chan was going to kill him. As soon as he put him on the bench and they were out of sight, Iwa-chan was going to murder him. He whimpered again, and felt the hand against his lower back tighten.

Once he was carefully placed on the bench, his right leg extending in front of him as the left dangled off the side, the world around him started to slowly come back to Tooru. He could feel Iwaizumi crouching beside him as he listened to the yells travel from one side of the court to the other, the referee calling a time-out. The crowd was talking agitatedly. His eyes finally focused on his surroundings, and the first thing he saw was his knee swelling in front of him, his skin an angry red and starting to bruise. The sight made nausea rise in his stomach and he turned his head to the side, right into the crook of Iwa-chan's neck, who still had a hand on Tooru's back and was rubbing it slowly and soothingly.

"Hey, Shittykawa." Tooru lifted his gaze, met Iwa-chan's eyes. They were hard, worry mixed with anger mixed with anxiety and concern. Tooru swallowed, but didn't look away. 

"Hi," he replied lamely. "I think I might have fucked up." Because he knew it was better if he said it before Iwa-chan did. Iwa-chan's gaze didn't waver, but his jaw clenched.

Tooru felt the doctor touch a sensitive part of his knee and he let out a choked scream. Iwa-chan grabbed his hand and squeezed, still rubbing circles on his back with the other one, and Tooru let himself lean all of his weight against him. "Don't look," said Iwa-chan. "Just don't look."

He didn't say, "You'll be fine," and Tooru was glad. He couldn't take any more pain today. He closed his eyes again, and stopped thinking.

\---

"Oikawa," Iwa-chan said. Tooru thought that might not have been the first time he said it, from his weary tone. Tooru blinked and hummed, not taking his eyes off his laptop. "Oikawa, look at me, dammit."

Tooru closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then turned to Iwa-chan, who was sitting half-turned towards Tooru. He avoided his eyes, fixing his own somewhere on Iwa-chan's cheek instead. Iwa-chan huffed. 

They were sitting on Tooru's bed, backs against the bed frame, Tooru's leg wrapped up in a thick bandage, in a way that made it impossible for him to bend his knee. His laptop was balanced on a couple of pillows, some random movie playing on the screen. Tooru didn't remember which movie they'd picked, and halfway into the movie he still had no idea what it was supposed to be about. The glow of the screen casted sharp shadows on Iwa-chan's profile, making him look angry. Or maybe he _was_ angry. 

"Oi," he said, snapping his fingers in front of Tooru's face, bringing back his attention once again. Tooru wished he'd stop doing that. "Get that miserable look off your face, idiot. You look like a zombie."

Tooru cocked his head to the side in a way that made Iwa-chan's frown deepen. He felt his lips tug upwards in one of the smiles that Iwa-chan hated the most, too, but he couldn't help it. "Mean Iwa-chan! You look like a caveman all the time but you don't see me voicing my thoughts about it to your face every minute, do you?"

Iwa-chan's lips settled in a tight line and Tooru looked away with a flinch. Iwa-chan blew air through his nose. 

"Why is everything a joke to you?" Tooru stayed quiet. "Why is your _health_ a joke to you, huh? Tell me how long your knee had been hurting before you fell. And don't fucking lie to me."

Iwa-chan was breathing hard. Tooru didn't dare look at him, instead letting his eyes stare unseeingly at the tiny screen. He knew this speech, and knew Iwa-chan knew his knee had been hurting since the beginning of the match. He didn't want to say it. But Iwa-chan had always known him best, so his silence was enough.

"Dammit, Oikawa." He still sounded angry, but it was like all the strength had left his body the moment he said Tooru's name. Tooru swallowed hard, realizing that the prickliness behind his eyes had nothing to do with the glare of the screen in front of him. 

He startled when he felt Iwaizumi's fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling his left hand from where it was in a tight fist on his lap. He didn't resist when Iwa-chan uncurled his fingers and laced them with his. Iwa-chan ran a thumb over his knuckles, and Tooru felt the gesture finally break the dam; he let a broken sob rack his entire body and covered his face with his free hand.

All of his frustrations, the doctor's warning that unless he took a break from training for two months he'd be unable to play again, the pain and the anger and the absolute helplessness, crashed over him. He felt Iwaizumi curse and wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him closer, letting Tooru bury his face in his neck. His hand was once again rubbing wide circles on Tooru's back, and his lips were pressing small kisses on Tooru's hair. The hand that was still holding Tooru's squeezed, and Tooru pressed as close to Iwaizumi as he could without moving his leg, needing Iwaizumi's warmth and strength.

"I'm so sorry, Iwa-chan," he managed between sobs. "I'm sorry."

Iwa-chan inhaled sharply, because Tooru rarely apologized for anything. His hand stilled for a moment and Tooru braced himself for him to pull back, but after a moment, his hand resumed the movement. 

"Don't be stupid, Trashykawa," Iwa-chan muttered against Tooru's head. "Don't apologize. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself from now on."

That was a promise Tooru didn't know he could keep, but he nodded anyway, the tear-stained fabric of Iwa-chan's shirt clinging to his cheek. He didn't think Iwa-chan believed him, but he continued to press occasional kisses to the top of Tooru's head and his hand never ceased its soothing circles on his back. 

\---

Despite his annoyance and stubbornness, Tooru did take it easy for a while after the injury. He spent the two months of absolute inactivity studying matches, techniques, and strategies. He still went to every practice, if only to be able to watch his team and take notes about what needed to improve and what their strengths were. The others stopped walking on eggshells around him when Kindaichi asked him for the fifth time if he was okay, and Tooru smiled his best, most charming (read: threatening) smile and told him to focus on his weak receive rather than Tooru's very strong pride. 

After 3 months, he was almost back to normal. Sometimes his knee ached after a long practice, but Iwa-chan was now watching him like a hawk and would notice the moment he started putting less weight on the leg, and would either force him _physically_ to sit down, or he'd end practice earlier. 

On these days, they would walk home together, Tooru's arm around Iwa-chan's neck and Iwa-chan's arm around Tooru's waist. Iwa-chan seemed to know the last thing Tooru ever wanted to talk about was his knee, so he made sure to talk about anything else.

Some days, Tooru's knee was just impossible to ignore, and more than anything Tooru felt anger and it made tears of frustration stain his face. 

This was one of those days. 

Tooru was sitting on the edge of his bed, his face wet and flushed and he knew he looked pathetic and a mess but he couldn't bring himself to care. It _hurt_ and he was angry and he just wanted to cut off his leg so his stupid knee would stop hurting.

Iwa-chan was kneeling on the floor in front of him, between his parted legs, his hands stroking up and down his thighs, always careful and soft when he got to the edge of the bandage around Tooru's knee. He wasn't saying anything, because there was nothing to say.

Eventually Tooru's sobs died down into hiccups, but Iwa-chan didn't move from his spot on the floor, still soothing and kneading Tooru's thighs. Tooru put a hand on his head, threading his fingers on the short, always surprisingly soft strands of hair.

"Your knees are going to be sore, Iwa-chan," he muttered, and his voice sounded croaky and wrong. 

Instead of replying, Iwa-chan looked up at him, his eyes warm and bright and serious in the last rays of sunlight of the afternoon. After holding his gaze for a couple of seconds, Iwa-chan turned and pressed his lips to the inside of Tooru's thigh, right above the bandage. Tooru's heart and stomach jumped simultaneously.

"What are you doing?" he said, his voice regaining strength. Iwa-chan didn't look up, just kissed the top of his thigh this time, his lips warm and tender, his breath tickling Tooru's skin, making his insides flutter. "Iwa-chan?"

"I'm kissing it better, idiot," Iwa-chan finally said, not looking up, just continuing to kiss a trail along the edge of Tooru's bandage. Tooru noticed the tip of his ears were a little pink. He let his fingers comb through Iwa-chan's head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

"Oh, then do carry on," he said. "I think it's working, who knew Iwa-chan had magical healing powers~"

Iwa-chan looked up with a frown, ready ro retort, but he must have seen something in Tooru's face (because Tooru was too weak to try to stop the adoration he felt swelling in his chest from showing on his face), because he just huffed and looked away, his face reddening slightly. Tooru let out a giggle.

"You're such a softie, Iwa-chan."

"And you're a very ugly crier, Trashykawa." Iwa-chan stood up when Tooru yelped indignantly. He moved to stand between Tooru's knees and looked down at him, eyes searching. Tooru swallowed, held his gaze. Iwa-chan's hand moved to cup the side of his face with both hands, thumbs erasing the tear tracks from his cheekbones. He leaned down and when Tooru closed his eyes, he felt Iwa-chan's lips press a soft, long kiss on his forehead. Tooru moved his arms to circle Iwa-chan's waist. When Iwa-chan straightened back up, Tooru buried his face on his stomach, keeping his eyes closed, heat prickling behind his eyelids again. He sniffed, and Iwa-chan's hands settled on his shoulder.

Tooru pulled back slightly and pouted. Iwa-chan raised an eyebrow. Tooru pouted harder.

Iwa-chan sighed, rolled his eyes, and leaned down to press a lingering kiss against Tooru’s lips. Tooru smiled tearily.

“Iwa-chan’s magical healing powers will definitely work now,” he said, burying his face in Iwa-chan’s stomach once again.

"We'll figure it out, Tooru," Iwa-chan said, running a hand through Tooru’s hair. And this time he added, "You'll be okay."

And Tooru wanted nothing more than to believe him. 


End file.
